Unstable (28 page)

No thinking. No second guessing. Just feeling.

For the first time in nine years, and the only time it’s ever been
real
, I get lost in the pleasure of what a carnal, caring man can give to me.

His finger is long and thick, as is every part of him, and I squirm from the slight pinch of pain as he works it inside me.

“Damn baby, you’re snug. When’s—”

“Nine years, and only once,” I pant my interruption. “But don’t stop.”

“Oh, Henny. That doesn’t count. Means you’re only
mine
, ever.”

His finger gently moves deeper with his groaned approval.

“Only yours,” I all too happily agree in a breathless whisper. He’s right, it doesn’t count. Thirty seconds of nothing special from almost a decade ago completely forgotten. Forever. And I am only his.

He uses his mouth and touch to worship every inch of my breasts, collarbone, neck, ears, and lips, scandalizing me with his deeply grunted praise and promises while working his finger in and out of me. The tingle in my belly builds in my thighs into what I know will be a crescendo of wet, wonderful abandonment. I chase it, rocking my hips and silently begging for more.

And he gives it. His thumb, the pad roughened by years of physical labor, puts perfect, scratchy pressure right on my clit and rubs in circles that send me spiraling out of my body, disconnected from my mind, into a blackness of physical utopia.

From wherever it is I’m floating, I hear myself shatter apart loudly while Keaton hums, “That’s my girl. Give it all to me, Henny. Fucking beautiful.”

He covers me with scattered kisses, holding me while I come down from my high ‘til my glazed eyes are able to focus on his.

“That was,” I shake the fog from my head, “so good,” I purr.

“Glad you approve,” he softly laughs, helping me with my shirt, my arms useless, limp noodles. “My lap and my finger,” he clicks his tongue. “You’re beyond responsive. I can’t wait ‘til we get to the good stuff, baby. Gonna make you crazy. Gonna make
me
crazy. Do I need to take care of Bourbon, or can you walk?” he gloats.

“I can do it, but, what about you?” I look beyond his shoulder at the wall, cheeks heating what I’m sure is scarlet.

“What about me?” he taunts, wanting me to say it.

“Don’t you want me to…do stuff to you?”

“Oh, many, many, things. All day, every day,” he laughs and growls at the same time. “But I can wait. Watching you come undone for me, feeling your sweetness coat my hand, and finally getting my mouth on those gorgeous tits, I’m good for now. I’ll take care of it when I run home to take a shower anyway.” He flashes me a wink. “My dick comes out here, and we’re not leaving this house today. And we got shit to do.”

“O…Okay,” I nod, disappointed. I
want
to do things to him. Bold, sexy things…learning every part of him and what he likes best.

“Plenty of time, Darlin’. Promise.” He kisses me and hops out of bed. “Now I’m gonna run home, get ready. Need you to get up and do the same. Can you handle that my sweet, sated girl?”

“Yes.” I roll my eyes. “Geez, cocky much? I’m fine.”

“Really?” I’m so busy watching his arrogant expression and quirked brow, I don’t notice his hand, until it’s back between my legs. “Hmm, still hot, wet, and pulsing. You sure you’re
fine?
” he glories, rightly so. “And I am cocky,
very.
But we’ll make it fit, don’t worry.”

He deprives me of his hand and finishes getting dressed while I lay there, gape jawed and dancing between anticipation of his every word and wanting to throw something at his inflated head.

“Hen, really babe, gotta get shakin’. Up, shower, dog. Big plans today. Need you all there. Quit thinking about my dick and get ready.” His smile is so self-satisfied, I kind of want to slap him…or jump him.

“Then go. I’m getting up right now.” I rise, testing my legs. Yeah, they work. “You’re the one still standing around talking.” I prance to the kitchen for Bourbon’s pill.

“I’ll see ya in a few.” He stops to kiss me, hand groping my ass, then leaves.

“Here you go, boy.” I squat down and feed Bourbon, petting his neck. “Let me ask you something. How do you know when you’re in love?”

My dog moves closer and nuzzles into me, laying his head on my arm and wagging his tail once.

“I love you too, Bourbon.”

And it strikes me like lightning—my dog totally just answered me in the purest form possible. He
showed
me. I know he loves me because he’s always by my side, especially when I need him most. He watches out for me and starts his day by seeking me out because he wants to see me first thing.

And he knows I love him because I take care of him, his health and happiness my priority. Always taking time to pet him, praise him, and include him in my plans. Smiling whenever he’s with me.

We give each other as much as we get, mutually, willingly. Without burden, because we
want
what’s best for the other.

“Thanks, boy, you’re absolutely right. I’m gonna be gone today, you want to stay in or out?”

He ambles toward the door, maybe to go to the bathroom, maybe to answer my question. I’m not sure yet. I let him out and decide to assess his decision when it’s time to leave.

And I snicker to myself in the shower at what an onlooker would think. Eh, fuck ‘em. You can’t understand a relationship like mine and Bourbon’s until you’ve had a dog like Bourbon.

I think about what he told me,
the dog,
while I get dressed. Keaton
does
love me, because he exceeds all the things you do to
show
someone you love them.

But me? I don’t. Yet. I
want
to though.

What’s that mean?

Henley, you know exactly what that means. You’re just still a little scared to acknowledge it. But you’re getting there. Atta me!

BOURBON OPTS FOR STAYING
inside. A tad disheartening, but I have to start facing the reality of his age and the effects the gradual drop in temperature have on him.

And most importantly, I make sure I use every bit of time I have left with him ensuring his comfort and constantly showing him how much I love him.

I hear Keaton pull in the driveway and grab my purse, hurrying to be outside before he honks. But when I open the door, I crash smack dab into his chest with an “oomph,” because there he stands.

“Sorry, I figured you’d just honk.” I bounce off the brick wall that’s his massive frame and he reaches out to steady me.

“You thought I’d sit on my ass in the truck and
honk,
to beckon you?” He seems to be debating between shocked and aggravated.

“Well yeah.” I shrug, not quite understanding what it is we’re discussing. “What’s weird about that?”

“Are you sure you don’t wanna write down the list? Getting pretty long.” When I stay quiet, he scrubs a hand on the back of his neck and adds, “Did you date, at all, while you were gone?”

I shake my head.

“Good, less fucktards I have to track down and teach some damn manners to. So, just the one asshole responsible for your low expectations?”

“Merrick is the only guy I’ve ever dated. I
think
that answers all your long-winded questions, yes.”

“It does.” He reaches behind me, checking the lock and shutting the door. While he leads me to his truck with a hand on my back, he returns to talk of the ever-growing list.

“Hen, if I
ever
honk at you rather than come up to get you, walk with you,
and
open your door, either my legs are broken or I’ve had a stroke. Or both, ‘cause I shouldn’t be driving if both my legs are broken. So call 9-1-1 immediately. You’re a lady.
My lady.
And you will always be treated as such. That goes on my side of the list of rules.”

“Whatever you say, macho man. I really wouldn’t have minded.” I climb in the truck while he holds open my door.

“Well you should mind. I promise, I won’t ever take you for granted and get lazy on ya, babe.” With a wink and chaste kiss, he shuts my door and walks around to his side.

I fidget with my hands and hem of my shirt, trying to pretend we’re headed
anywhere
besides Merrick’s office. My throat’s beyond parched, so dry it hurts to swallow. And my heartbeat, if taken right now, would get me admitted into the hospital…for observation at the very least.

“Hey.” He uses one hand to steer and the other to hold mine. “Relax, baby girl. Everything is gonna be fine today. There’s nothing he can do about it now that we know, and there’s less than nothing that you can’t handle. I believe in you.”

“What if I can’t though? He’s sneaky and knows a bunch of legal mumbo jumbo that makes no sense to me.”

“Henley, you know me better than that. When I tell you that
I’ve got you
and I’ve laid all the groundwork, what do you think that means?”

I gulp the best I can down a scratchy throat. “I’m afraid to find out.

That tickles him. “It means, I’m not going to just sit there and intimidate him. That’s a given. I’ve got
my
lawyer meeting us there to overlook all the paperwork for any funny business. I’ve paid his retainer and he now represents you too, thus firing Merrick and his firm. Oh, and if anything else happens I don’t like, I’ve got a likin’ for beating Merrick’s ass. Trust me, we’re covered.”

“Okay.” I don’t know why I even bother saying it; that weak attempt didn’t convince either of us.

“
And
, I’m gonna let it pass that you failed to notice, since I know you’re distracted, that I’m wearing my lucky belt buckle. What could go wrong?”

I glance over and sure enough, he’s got on the buckle I bought him. And as predicted, it looks damn good on him. This cheers me up some and it’s me who squeezes his hand this time.

“Thank you, Keaton. You’re very good to me and I…I appreciate it. In fact, I’ll make ya a deal.”

“Oh yeah?” His voice drops an octave. “What’s that?”

Here I go, my first step in
showing
him how I feel, like Bourbon advised. I take a deep breath and say it all on the exhale. “If everything works out and the day ends well,
I’ll
take that shiny buckle off
for you
later.”

WE WALK IN THE
office and Addison’s head pops up, her face immediately paling to a ghostly white. She jumps out of her chair and runs to stand in front of Keaton, visibly shaking.

“W…what are you doing here? And with
her
?” She glares me up and down, her sneer even uglier than the last time I saw it.

Guess she hasn’t saved up enough for that Botox yet. Should’ve bribed Merrick to pay for
that
in return for her silence, ‘cause I can assure you, sleeping with him isn’t worth it.

“You know exactly why I’m here and with
Henley,
” he answers her calmly.

She, however, takes a different approach. An ear-shattering cross between a screeching owl and a petulant three-year-old who needs a nap. She stomps her foot and grabs her hips. “But, I thought, the other night—”

“I’m gonna stop ya right there, Darlin’. You thought what, that I’d actually be interested in someone who not only admitted they were fucking their boss, who’s with
someone else, but that you actively participate in ripping off a woman who just lost her mother and has never done a damn thing to you in her life?”

He tsks at her and shakes his head. “You’re a despicable person, Addison. I’d rather have my dick stuck in a wood chipper than so much as even sit in the same room with you ever again. Now go tell your boss we’re here and ready. That’s our counsel walking in now.”

I turn around to see an impeccably dressed, very well-kept man, probably in his early fifties strolling toward us.

He sticks out his hand to me, and I shake it. “You must be Henley, very nice to meet you. Heard nothing but great things. I’m David Boles, your attorney.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, and thank you so much for being here, especially on such short notice. Before we go in, can I have a moment, privately?” I nudge my head and he looks at Keaton, who’s eyeing me skeptically, then back to me.

“Of course.”

I lead him off to the side, out of Keaton’s earshot. “I know Mr. Cash has paid my retainer fee for you, but I’d like to take care of that myself, if you’ll just let me know how much it was.”